


Underhanded

by coolbyrne



Series: Tinder [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack privately stands up for Gibbs in a gym full of people. Not-yet-established-Slibbs





	Underhanded

**Author's Note:**

> Don't think this went where I thought it was going to go! The ending needed something more, I think. Still, I hope you like it.

He was glad he was on the bike because it was a hell of a lot easier to disguise his interest than it was for the 18 other sets of eyes that were trying to pretend they were working out while watching the blonde in the boxing ring. Gibbs choked down a laugh when Agent Stevens dropped a dumbbell on his foot. Not that he could blame the guy- the woman in the ring was a vision, even with her hair pulled back, even with her face flushed, even with her chest heaving. 

_Simmer down, Gunny._

He tried to focus on her form instead of her, well, _form_. She had some kind of training, that much was obvious. The way she bounced on the balls of her feet, but only as much as was required to dodge the imaginary opponent. Agent Briggs- 'Mean Marcus' to his friends- made the training pads in his hands look like stamps as he moved them into target positions. Sometimes he'd keep them still, other times he'd lightly swing at her, forcing her to step and move. An arching left by Briggs had her upper body looping down, but Gibbs could tell she never lost sight of the target, her head staying up. And as her body returned to its stance, her own left hooked out to hit the pad. 

There was something about her that was different from her day to day beauty, a coiled sensuality that he only caught glimpses of in her pencil skirts and knee high boots. Legs that he admired on more than one occasion looked even more tantalizing, lean and strong under compression tights. Her wrapped hands struck the targets with power but control, the tendons in her wrists standing out in stark relief at every contact, her head bobbing and weaving, but her eyes laser-focused. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be the unwavering object of her attention. Of course, his own attention wasn't the only one she attracted.

Agent Kurt Graham, he of the dark tan and white, white teeth, stepped into the ring, and after a conversation with Marcus that Gibbs couldn't hear, he took over the pads and grinned at Jack. She glanced at the big man who shrugged and tossed her a bottle of water. Every man in the room leaned forward when she took a drink, her head tipped back, rivulets of water dripping from her chin down her throat. She wiped it away with a towel in the corner and tossed both the bottle and towel back to Briggs. 

Gibbs watched her approach Graham and wondered what he was saying.

…..

"Figured you'd want to hit some targets a little closer to your level," he joked, holding the pads low. "Briggs is a freakin' giant, huh?"

She sighed. Months ago, after finding out the big man was an amateur boxer, she had coerced him into some training sessions and he eagerly agreed once he discovered she had her own experience and wasn’t messing around. Today, all she wanted to do was come down to the gym and go a few rounds. And if Gibbs was there, doing his bare minimum to pass the annual physical that was coming up, well that was just a bonus. What she hadn’t expected was so many other bodies in the gym, and what she really hadn’t expected was for one of them to come on to her. She flashed a withering stare at Marcus who was grinning like a fiend. Sighing again, she picked up where she left off, feinting and jabbing, bouncing and dodging. 

"Wow, you got a punch on you!" he praised after a particularly sharp connection. 

“Look at those legs wobble!” Marcus laughed. 

“Ignore him,” Graham told her.

The comment wasn’t needed, as her attention remained strictly on the targets. When she realized his mouth was still moving but his arms were not, she lowered her arms for a moment and stopped. 

"You going to swing at me or what?"

The thought clearly annoyed him. "I don't hit women."

"It's a training session," she retorted. "You're kinda supposed to pretend."

He shook his head. "Couldn't imagine even pretending with a beautiful woman."

"That's your pickup line?" Marcus crowed from the corner. "C'mon, man."

Briggs' condemnation was loud enough for the entire gym to hear, and half the room stole a glance at Gibbs. The other half was smart enough to pretend they hadn't heard. Gibbs sat back in the seat with his hands gripping the ends of the towel around his neck, and he continued pedalling, watching events unfold. She inwardly groaned. The last thing she wanted him to see was her having to deal with some jackass being a jackass.

“Are we doing this or are you going to flirt all day?”

The agent seemed taken aback by her bluntness but quickly recovered and raised the targets. “Not flirting, just stating facts.” Her silence was her response and again, it wasn’t what he expected. “Really, we’re going to play this game? I just want to take you out for a drink.”

His tone took on a slight edge that didn’t surprise her at all. She imagined he didn’t have much experience with women ignoring him. She decided to keep things as level as possible. “I appreciate it, Agent Graham. But I’m just here to workout, thanks.”

“We could find other ways to work out,” he suggested with a wink.

The audacity of the comment broke her rhythm ever-so-slightly, but she quickly regained it and hit two of the targets in quick succession. The charm that no doubt worked on so many other women was falling flat with her, and she could see the agitation grow.

“Why are you busting my balls on this? Are you seeing someone?”

She almost considered lying and saying ‘Yes’, but hated the idea that she should be the one to diffuse the situation. He took her hesitation as avoidance and the frustration came through in an accusation.

His hands dropped. “Tell me you’re not sleeping with Jethro Gibbs.”

 _The perils of having a reputation of turning the head of every woman in the building_ , she mused, her own arms falling to her sides. Not that she had been immune. Not that she hadn’t given a thought to the verb and the subject. Not that she hadn’t given it more than one thought. Or two. Or ten.

This time, he took her hesitation as confirmation. “Oh my fucking god,” he laughed mirthlessly. “What is it with that old fossil?”

…..

Even if he hadn’t seen it, Gibbs would’ve recognized the sound of a nose breaking. He had delivered enough of his own to know it outright. Still, watching her straight right hand connect with Graham’s face made his eyes go wide. He knew the agent must've said something to her before the punch because he saw her feet falter for the briefest of seconds, but now his curiosity was really piqued. 

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed in a tone that fooled no one. "My hand just slipped. You saw that, right Marcus?"

"With my own 2 eyes," he replied, his amusement for all to see. "Slipped!"

Gibbs watched Graham's partner jump into the ring to tend to his friend while Jack went to her corner, having a few words with Briggs before stepping through the ropes. All eyes went back to pretending they were doing something other than gawking, him included. Peripherally, he saw her walk by and he raised his head to acknowledge her. He was surprised to see the frown, but felt a sense of self-satisfaction when it changed into a smile. She didn't come over; instead, she offered a quick wink and kept walking. Briggs may have caught him staring at her six, based on the grin the big man was giving when he came up to the exercise bike. 

"Where'd she learn to box like that?" Gibbs asked, partially to cover his hand being caught in the cookie jar, but mostly because he was curious.

Briggs shrugged. "You know Army types- nothin' better to do but bounce around in a circle."

He would've been rankled by the slight on her service but he knew Briggs himself was an Army man. 

"Jarheads," Gibbs deadpanned.

Briggs' smile was bright and wide. "Somethin' like that! Listen," he said, leaning closer, "that punch was for you."

"Come again?"

"Not sure if you noticed," his tone said the opposite, "but Kurt was hittin' on your lady." Gibbs didn't flinch despite Briggs' playful implication. "Which she was okay with. I mean, she probably gets that a lot, pretty lady like that." When that also got no discernible response, he shook his head. "You got a damn good poker face, Agent Gibbs."

"Still waitin' to hear how the punch was for me."

"He questioned your manhood. She didn't like that. Ah, there it is." Briggs pointed at the slightest twitch of Gibbs' mouth. 

"Don't know what you're talkin' about, Agent Briggs."

"Right, right." He reached over and increased the bike's resistance. Before Gibbs could ask, he said, "Gotta improve that cardio, know what I'm sayin'? For your physical."

Any breath he had for a retort went right back to his lungs, but he _was_ able to wheeze out a "Jesus," which only made Briggs laugh more.

…..

Had she not still sported a slight flush, a casual observer might not have guessed she had just made the transition from Work-out Jack to Professional Jack. Her hair flowed to her shoulders, her face glowed with whatever magic women did, and the white sweater was miles away from the tank top she wore at the gym. Different, yet somehow just as inviting. Except-

"Lemme see it."

She rolled her eyes but complied, lifting her hand from her lap behind the desk. An ice pack was precariously balanced on the knuckles.

"Jesus, Jack."

He stepped closer, taking her hand in his and gently removing the ice, revealing a purple swell at the base of her pinky finger. His thumb brushed across it, his eyes caressed over it. A low disapproving hum rolled up his throat.

Her laughter lifted his eyes. “You shouldn’t take it personally, you know?”

He didn’t relinquish his hold. “I was told maybe I should. Take it personally.”

It didn’t take long for Jack to figure it out. “Marcus has a big mouth.”

Dryly, Gibbs remarked, “I think Marcus has a big everything.”

Laughing, she tugged him to sit on the corner of the desk. “I didn’t wrap my hands properly,” she said. “Of course, I didn’t think I’d be punching someone in the face.”

“You should always be prepared to punch someone in the face.”

She nodded sagely. “Once I can write properly, I think that will be my Rule 1.”

His mouth twitched. “Good strong start. I like that.” He also liked the feel of her hand in his, the soft fingers settling in his calloused palm. To distract himself from imagining what her fingers would feel like elsewhere, he looping his grip around her wrist. “Make a fist.”

“It’s not broken.”

“Make a fist.”

Rolling her eyes, she did as she was told, as best she could considering the swelling. When he seemed satisfied with her diagnosis, she quipped, “Wanna kiss it better?”

The playful question was considered so briefly that she let out an “Oh!” of surprise when his warm lips touched the knuckle, still cool from the ice pack. His eyes were closed, as if he could speed up the healing through his lips. It was the first time he had toed over the line of professionalism since he kissed her on the head at Christmas. When he opened his eyes, he immediately wished he had done it sooner, because her eyes shone with possibilities. 

Considering he knew she'd just gone through one asshole hitting on her, he hesitated at being the second, but when her eyebrows rose into a feigned innocence, he smirked back.

"Got anymore owies that need tendin' to?" His eyes flicked ever-so-quickly over her, but not fast enough for her to miss, because she burst out laughing.

"Oh, I've got one or two."

"Yeah? I've been told I have pretty good bedside manner." Now it was his turn to look innocent.

"And we're not even near a bed yet." She pressed her lips together, hearing how heavy the innuendo weighed. "You know, sometimes I should play the words through my brain before I say them."

He leaned back and laughed before kissing her hand again. It was exactly that bravado, that push back, that sass that attracted him to her in the first place. He shook his head at her roundabout apology. "No, no you shouldn’t."

The blatant request coaxed her tongue out to lick her bottom lip "See?" she said, subconsciously leaning towards him. " _That's_ a good pick-up line."

"Yeah?" he asked, his body mirroring hers, blue holding brown. 

"Yeah."

The alluring waft of her perfume had just curled around his senses when his phone rang. His "Are you kiddin' me?" was met with another laugh. Flipping open the offending device, he stayed close enough for her nose to bump with his.

"Yeah?" he barked into the phone, the word holding none of the seductive undertones that had threaded through his earlier use of the question. An indiscernible voice chattered from the other end and he replied, "On my way." He snapped the phone shut but didn't move. The moment stretched between them, taut and electric until he reached for the ice pack and gently returned it to her bruised knuckle. "Take some ibuprofen. Helps with the swelling."

"Yes, Dr. Gibbs."

If he didn't think she could give as good as she got before then, he knew it now. Her low and sultry address sent a bolt through him and she must’ve seen it because she sat back and winked. “I hear you’ve got a physical coming up. I could help you with that. You know, put you through your paces.” He glanced down at her hand and raised an eyebrow. “Oh this? Don’t worry, I’m ambidextrous.” 

As if to prove her point, she took a lollipop out of the nearby jar and unwrapped it with her left before slipping it between her teeth. The suggestion behind the ploy wasn't lost on him 

He opened his mouth to reply but decided the candy was the better option. Grabbing his own, he pointed it at her with playful accusation and worked out a "Behave," around the lollipop in his cheek. "Doctor's orders."

Her laughter followed him out the door.

…..

-end


End file.
